


And I'm falling, falling (catch me before I land)

by Talvenhenki



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Heavy themes for such a short story, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28943469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talvenhenki/pseuds/Talvenhenki
Summary: Aramis, in a crisis, is found by Porthos who has come home too early. As Aramis spills out what got him in such a state, Porthos tries to hold him together.
Relationships: Aramis | René d'Herblay/Porthos du Vallon
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	And I'm falling, falling (catch me before I land)

**Author's Note:**

> I watched a TV series and a lot of things rubbed me the wrong way and this story happened. No proofreading, we die like non-binary individuals

“Aramis?”

Porthos was behind him. Aramis squeezed his eyes shut, hitting the balcony’s railing with all he had. Aramis had moved the glass of the balcony to the side, opening it for the first time since he and Porthos had moved in. Porthos shouldn’t have been home for another hour yet; Aramis would have had time to carefully think through everything.

But there Porthos was, home too soon. Porthos was there, witnessing Aramis’ moment of weakness, his moment of indecision. Porthos was home too soon and it ruined Aramis’ chances of going through with it.

All he would have needed to do would have been to lean forward…

“What are you doing, Aramis?”

Aramis’ eyes were full of tears. He could barely breathe through the lump in his throat, and his face felt numb. There was too little air in his lungs and his whole body was trembling. He felt like he was at a dead-end, like there was no space for him to move around.

Strong arms pulled Aramis into a tight embrace. Porthos was there, whispering into Aramis’ ear, leading Aramis away from the open fall, away from the balcony. Aramis heard the balcony door closing and soon he found himself on the sofa.

Through his tears, Aramis could see Porthos sitting in front of him. There was a question in the air, an unsaid _what the hell, Aramis_ ; an unsaid _why would you do something like this?_ Lowering his eyes in shame, Aramis whimpered.

“We got a letter from Isabelle”, Aramis breathed, “an invitation. She’s getting married.”

Porthos held Aramis’ hands. “That doesn’t explain what you were doing on the balcony, looking down at the street like that.”

Aramis shook his head. “You’re right”, he said, “it doesn’t.” Looking up, he whispered, “I…I’ve told you what happened between Isabelle and me when we were younger, did I? About the baby and…about losing it.”

Once again, Porthos pulled Aramis into his arms. Aramis snuggled close to him, trembling like a leaf. His whole body felt oddly numb, kind of unreal. He felt somehow distant from it all, as if Porthos were not truly holding him at that moment.

“I thought that I was stupid for feeling so crushed by it back when it happened.” Now that Aramis was speaking, he felt like he couldn’t stop the words. “Like I wasn’t man enough, or something. But then…then it happened to a friend of Sofia’s and I saw how crushed he was about it and it all came back. It all came back to me and I never dealt with it like I should have and now Isabelle is getting married and she’s gonna be happy and I – I’m here crying over a daughter I never got to have!”

Porthos was rubbing Aramis’ back now. Aramis was crying – not loudly; he couldn’t even tell when the last time that he’d cried loud was – clutching Porthos’ jacket like a lifeline. They were sitting on the sofa, Aramis breaking into something that neither of them could name.

After a considerable amount of time, well over an hour, Aramis had calmed down enough that there were no more tears. Porthos was still holding him, still trying to make sure that Aramis was still alive. Of course, Porthos logically knew that mere crying could not actually kill Aramis, but after seeing him on that balcony…well, Porthos liked to be sure.

“Do you need me to call anyone?” Porthos asked softly and gently massaged Aramis’ head. “Athos, maybe? Or your father? He was there for you after the break-up with Isabelle, wasn’t he?”

Aramis blinked. “My dad’s been trying to call me all afternoon. You should call him, but don’t tell him to come over. Tell him…tell him that I’m dealing with it. That I’ll be fine.”

Porthos shook his head. “You’re far from fine”, he told Aramis, “but that’s a discussion we’ll have later. I’ll text your dad and tell him that you’ll call him when you’re ready. How does that sound?”

“Good. That sounds good.”

Aramis lay against Porthos as Porthos typed the message to Aramis’ father. Aramis felt completely spent, having exhausted all his energy earlier. After a few moments, he noticed that Michelle, his old Bernese mountain dog had brought him something. Examining the item, Aramis realised that Michelle had brought him a pillow. He smiled, feeling thankful for it. Michelle was a clever dog and got far too little credit for that.

“Good girl”, Aramis whispered, scratching her head, “thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

“Even she noticed that you weren’t ok”, Porthos said, “and speaking of her, we’ll have to take her out later today. Until then, what do you want to do?”

Aramis looked up at Porthos. “Cuddles? I can make some tea and we can get out the chocolate chip cookies if you’d like.”

“Sounds good”, Porthos said, smiling, “we can deal with the Isabelle thing later. Obviously, you need to talk to her about the baby, but not now. I can be there for you when the time comes.”

Aramis nodded. “Thank you. I’m glad you got home early today.”

Porthos kissed Aramis’ hair, holding him as close as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Comint?


End file.
